Disclaimer: I do not support Rowling's views. All Harry Potter characters and the Wizarding World, unfortunately, belong to she-who-must-not-be-named.
31 October 1994
Warrington had been right. When Harry got back to Gryffindor Tower, he was met with a crowd that wanted to celebrate, forcing butterbeer, food, all kinds of things at him. But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet. What everyone wanted to know was how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet.
After thirty minutes of denying food and drink—as well as any ideas related to putting his name into the goblet—Harry was finally able to slip away, escaping to his dorm. Harry couldn't find Ron or Hermione at the celebration in the common room, so Harry was desperately hoping to see Ron in their room, ready to give him comforting words. 'We'll get out of this like we always do Harry!'
Harry was wrong, his expectations were not aligned with reality. Although Ron was sitting at his own bed—facing the dorm entrance as if he was expecting Harry to walk in any second—Ron's face didn't reflect the relief that Harry felt when their gazes met. Instead, there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on Ron's face. "So. Congratulations."
"What—congratulations?" said Harry.
"Well, not even Fred and George were able to get across the Age Line. And it sounds like everyone is having fun down there. How did you do it? You used the Invisibility Cloak, didn't you?"
"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have helped," Harry said slowly.
"Right. . .but you must've found another way."
Harry thought back to Warrington's words.
I just need to convince him.
"Listen, I didn't put my name in that goblet, Ron. After everything that has happened to us in the past three years, do you really think I care about this death tournament? I finally have someone like Sirius in my life, why would I want to risk that? Someone who genuinely wants the best for me. For what, eternal glory and no final exams? Money? All I want is just one normal year. Maybe actually learn more about magic, I've missed out on eleven years of it, is it so hard to believe?"
"Okay, Harry."
"Ron, come on—"
"You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photocall or something."
Ron wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster bed, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.
Harry had a restless night of sleep. When he finally got up in the morning, he felt even worse than when he went to bed. He glanced over to Ron's bed, hoping to talk to him again, maybe he changed his mind overnight—only to find that his bed was empty.
Harry dressed and went down to the common room. Once again he was bombarded with more congratulations and applause. He could only dread the rest of the Gryffindors downstairs in the Great Hall. Harry left Gryffindor tower more agitated than he entered it the previous night. He pushed open the portrait door and found himself face-to-face with Hermione.
"Hi," she held up a stack of toast wrapped in a napkin. "I thought you wouldn't want to go down there. . .want to go for a walk?"
Harry gave her a tired smile. "Good idea."
They went downstairs and quickly exited the castle for the Black Lake, settling near the Durmstrang ship. In between nibbles of toast, Harry filled Hermione in on what happened after he left the Gryffindor table when his name was called. To no surprise and to Harry's great relief, Hermione accepted his story without hesitation.
"You said so yourself, Harry, I highly doubt you would actively put yourself into this situation. I don't know about you, but I've had my fill of adventure for a lifetime. I would much prefer some of the worst things we've faced are basilisks and escaped convicts. Not one of my best friends caught dead in a dangerous competition!"
"Hey, Sirius was falsely accused," said Harry.
"Of course, my bad," she joked.
"How's Ron? Does he still think I entered myself?" Harry asked.
Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm not sure. I know at first he did, he was fuming quite a bit. But he was very deep in thought this morning at breakfast."
"I guess that's better than nothing. Why do you suppose you're not sure?"
"Harry, it's because he's jealous," Hermione said despairingly.
"Oh."
"You know how it is for him. With all of his brothers to compete against, and Ginny gets a pass as the youngest and the only girl. Not to mention you're his best friend—the infamous boy-who-lived—he feels put aside when he's with you sometimes..."
Harry sighed. "I know how he feels though. I don't talk about this often, but I was always tossed aside by the Dursleys growing up...and that's an understatement. "He furrowed his brows. "If anything I'm jealous of Ron! He grew up with all of this," Harry gestured to his wand and the robes that they wore, "and a family that loves him. Though Fred and George are absolute terrors sometimes—"
Harry and Hermione dissolved into laughter. Both had been victims to a few Weasley twin pranks over the years.
"They are terrors aren't they?"
They whipped their heads around to find a familiar, lanky redhead.
Ron nudged a stone at his feet. "You don't mind if I join you?"
"That's up to you," said Harry.
"Well, I was a right git last night, wasn't I?" Ron winced.
Harry knew that this was Ron's version of an apology. Harry broke into a half-grin. "You said it, not me."
Ron nervously grinned back and sat in front of Harry and Hermione, now seated in a small circle. "Now I've been doing some thinking—yes Hermione, I know, a shocker, you don't have to look so surprised—but what you said last night about Sirius...you're right. You wouldn't want to risk that, not after everything that happened last year."
Harry looked into Ron's eyes, he could tell that Ron was as sincere as he could be. Then Harry noticed a slight upturn to Ron's mouth. "And well, you'd have to be barking mad to put your name in the goblet—I mean, we hardly know anything! Merlin, we don't even remember what we learned a month ago, let alone know enough spells or theories to get through a series of 'dangerous' tasks according to Dumbledore. I reckon he set that Age Line for good reason!"
"I don't know if I should take my lack of wizarding knowledge as a compliment or an insult," Harry retorted.
Ron chuckled. "You know what I mean! So, what I'm tryna say is I wanna be there for you, Harry. I don't want to see my best mate done in."
"It's okay, Ron."
"No! I should've believed you right aw—"
"Ron," Harry shook his head.
Ron grinned at him, and Harry smiled back.
"Boys," Hermione shrugged helplessly.
"I don't know what you're on about, Hermione," Harry laughed.
"Mental, isn't she?" Ron added.
She rolled her eyes but a playful smile graced her face. "Warrington gave you some good advice last night, Harry."
"Yeah, I don't think I would've had an idea to convince Ron on the spot if he didn't mention that."
"Warrington?" said Ron, tilting his head to the side.
Harry and Hermione filled him in on Harry's night after his name was called.
"Woah, do you think we can trust him?" Ron asked.
Hermione mulled over the question for a minute. "Maybe? His sister did help us with that Polyjuice debacle in our second year. And they've always been somewhat civil towards non-Slytherins, excluding Quidditch, of course. I honestly don't understand how Ophelia Warrington has the time to do all that, to be honest. Last year, I was taking twelve classes up until Easter when I finally dropped Divination and Muggle Studies. But she was taking ten classes and Quidditch? How would you compare the demand of Quidditch, Harry? Would you think that it's about equal to Divination and Muggle Studies? Muggle Studies was a bit of a joke for a Muggleborn, so I didn't have to spend too much time revising for that class. I was rather disappointed about Muggle Studies if I'm being quite honest. But now that I think about it, Divination was rubbish too. I was wasting my time with that class when I could've been improving in Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. Did you know that she has me beat in those classes, Potions, and Charms? And Magical Creatures, obviously. Of course, you're better in Defence than all of us Harry, but that's half of our classes! I wonder if rich wizarding families have summer tutoring or something because I—"
"'Mione," said Harry and Ron.
Hermione groaned. "I was rambling again. It's just, the Warrington's are quite the puzzle, aren't they?" she concluded.
Harry nodded. "So what now?"
"Let's go to the Owlery," said Hermione.
"Owlery? What do we need to do there?" Ron said.
"Harry needs to write to Sirius! He asked you to keep him posted. I have some parchment and a quill in my bag. And this is certainly something that he needs to hear about from you rather than a third party—"
"Hold on, how else would he find out?" Harry questioned.
"This is a famous tournament, Harry, a tournament that's going to be covered throughout all of Wizarding Europe. I'd be surprised if the Daily Prophet didn't say anything about you competing. And, well, you're famous. . . Sirius would want to hear it from you," Hermione said seriously.
Harry sighed. Hermione was usually correct when it came to it. "Okay, okay, let's go. Breakfast should be over by now and I don't want to run into anyone on the way." Harry handed his last piece of toast to Ron, who happily accepted, and they returned to the castle.
"Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry said as they climbed the stairs. "He told me not to use Hedwig again."
"You can use Pig," Ron mumbled between bites.
"Are you sure?" said Harry.
Ron swallowed his food, wiping the crumbs from his face with the sleeve of his robes. "I reckon it would be better for Sirius to know the owl delivering your letter."
They went up to the Owlery and Hermione handed Harry parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Ron and Hermione quietly spoke while Harry sat down against a wall to write his letter.
Harry listlessly stared into the distance, thinking about what to say. What was he to do? Unlike Cassius, Fleur, or Viktor, Harry didn't know nearly as much as they did. Harry couldn't care less about winning, he needed to survive.
Sirius,
You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes. You probably know about the Triwizard Tournament happening this year, but this next bit - I'm not quite sure if it's been in the Prophet yet and I'm really hoping that I'll be the one breaking the news for you. Saturday night (last night for me), I was picked as the fourth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, but I want you to know that I didn't.
The other Hogwarts champion is Cassius Warrington from Slytherin. Funnily enough, I kinda fancy his sister - never mind that. Do you know much about the Warrington's? He seems like a good bloke to me.
Hope you and Buckbeak are okay — Harry
"Finished," he told Ron and Hermione, getting up and brushing straw off of his robes. Hedwig fluttered down onto his shoulder and held out her leg, but she was startled away when an owl with dark brown feathers flew towards the entrance of the Owlery, hooting to a new arrival.
"Artemis, you're so odd. I still don't know how you know it's me when I haven't even entered the room," a voice carried into the Owlery.
"Is that who I think it is?" Harry whispered.
With a view of the entrance, Ron saw who was approaching. He vigorously nodded his head.
Ophelia Warrington entered the Owlery, the dark owl settling on her shoulder. "Oh, sorry guys. Am I interrupting something?"
To the Gryffindors surprise, she was wearing an oversized Slytherin Quidditch sweater with Muggle jeans. She was usually seen wearing formal clothes or wizard robes.
"No, Ron and I were just going anyway," Hermione pulled Ron with her, the latter giving Harry a subtle thumbs up in support.
Warrington watched the two leave, then focused back on Harry after they left. "So, when are they getting together?"
"Ron and Hermione?"
"Are you being serious, Potter? Hold on, you probably are. Let me just say those two are a couple waiting to happen. Will it be a happily ever after? I don't know, not everyone stays together after school ends. But I'd wager a few Galleons that they'll at least have a tryst by the time we graduate," she smirked.
"I'll um—I'll take your word for it," said Harry. He never really thought about his two best friends together that way. But if someone who barely knew them could see something, a part of him wanted to find out if she was right. "So, what are you doing here?"
She raised her left hand, in it, a scroll of parchment.
"Right, er—this is the Owlery," he said sheepishly.
"I'm sending a letter to my parents, telling them that Cassius is a Hogwarts champion." She began to tie the parchment to her owl's leg.
Harry noticed that she said a champion and not the champion. He couldn't help but appreciate the distinction. "Of course, it's good that you're telling them."
Warrington nodded at his comment, then she stroked her owl on the back. "Okay Artemis, be careful flying home."
Artemis hooted and flew off.
"You're good with them, creatures. Hagrid says you're one of his best students."
"You talk to Hagrid about me?"
"I—um, it's not what you think," Harry stammered.
Warrington chuckled. Harry had only heard her laugh a few times, but it was still as infectious as the first time he heard it. "Potter, how many times do I have to tell you I'm joking."
"I don't know, you seem pretty serious most of the time."
"Ah, you're not wrong. But maybe that's just what I want everyone to think." Warrington walked a circle around Harry, arms crossed over her chest, an eyebrow raised, and her ever-present smirk. Harry always felt like prey when it came to her.
To distract himself from the lurking Warrington, Harry tied his letter to Pig and he happily took off. He tried to pet Hedwig, but she clicked her beak at him and flew across the room to Warrington.
"Your owl doesn't seem to like you," said Warrington. She carefully stroked Hedwig who leaned into Warrington's touch.
"Are you sure you're not an animal whisperer or something?"
Hedwig hardly approached strangers, let alone Harry's other friends.
Warrington glanced at Harry, a small smile on her face. "My great-great-grandfather was a magizoologist, more so a dragonologist actually. I suppose it's in my blood." She stressed the final word, pureblood humor Harry assumed.
Harry recalled a comment she made at the beginning of the school year. "Is that why you knew all of that stuff on dragons? And why you want one?"
She pursed her lips. "Kind of, but it's also because I wanted to bother Granger. It's too tempting not to mess with you Gryffindors. Besides, if you think I'm out of my mind, my great-great-grandfather is a hundred, maybe even a thousand times worse than me. When I still lived abroad, he would take us to the dragon reserve for fun, still do whenever we visit him. Come to think of it, those were fun times..." Warrington trailed off into a laugh.
"Abroad?"
"Right, I forget that the famous Harry Potter wasn't always aware of the world he was born into. My family's quite famous too, you know," Warrington teased. "I'm only semi-joking by the way. My parents left England before the war, then we came back a few years after it...ended."
"Oh," was all Harry could say. He subconsciously touched his scar.
"I'm sorry, Potter. I didn't mean to bring down the mood."
"No, it's um—fine. I talked my way into that conversation if I'm being honest," he said.
"Did I mention that my great-great-grandfather is over 150 years old?" Warrington asked.
Harry laughed, thankful for the change of pace. "No, you didn't. He's that old?"
She grinned. "Yeah, he's such an old geezer. Doesn't look a day older than Dumbledore, but he's still kicking."
Harry hadn't ever considered Dumbledore's age. "How old do reckon Dumbledore is?"
"113."
"How—"
"It's in textbooks, Potter. Just like you are," Warrington smirked.
"So you've been reading about me?" Harry didn't even realize how forward he was until the words were out of his mouth.
However, Warrington was more perceptive than he. "Ooo, someone's feeling good today."
Harry blushed, despite having a dreadful beginning to his day, making up with Ron and especially speaking with Warrington, Harry's day wasn't that bad. Not bad at all. "Better than last night if I'm being honest."
She nodded sagely. "If it makes you feel any better, don't expect to see any upper-year Slytherins until lunch I suppose. There might have been a little too much firewhisky last night." A slight smirk pulled on her lips.
Harry's eyes widened, he never fathomed that Slytherins were capable of anything other than turned up noses and sneers, let alone party.
As if she read his mind. "Yes, Slytherins have other things to do than be slimy."
"You've got to stop doing that!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter," she said nonchalantly.
"You know you can call me Harry. I mean—only if you want to."
Instead of focusing on him, Warrington gave Hedwig an owl treat. She accepted it with a hoot.
Harry began to feel a wash of anxiety come over him the longer the silence between them was held.
She finally met his eyes. "Okay, Harry it is, but only when it's us. I have a reputation to uphold," she joked. "And to make this fair, Ophelia. I suppose it's been confusing with my brother after all. I have a feeling the two of you will be seeing more of each other in the coming months."
"What makes you say that?" Harry asked. Although he was fine with being cordial with Cassius Warrington, Harry hardly felt the beginning of a friendship with Cassius like his sister thought.
"Intuition. Besides, from what I've heard, you said you trust Slytherins. Well, Warrington Slytherins to be specific."
Harry winced. "I suppose you spoke with your brother then?"
"We're as thick as thieves, and this thief has to make sure her brother isn't hungover." Ophelia turned to leave but looked back at him. "Don't be afraid to relay this whole conversation to Granger and Weaselbee. See you around, Harry."
And like she somehow always made him feel on days that he was at his lowest, Harry felt another reason to be happy.
Hermione and Ron couldn't convince Harry to go down to the Great Hall for either lunch or dinner Sunday night, nor breakfast Monday morning. He insisted that he still wasn't prepared to face the rest of the school. So she and Ron smuggled more food for him to eat on the condition that Harry came with them to lunch, he couldn't avoid the whole school forever. Whenever she and Ron had to go down for meals without Harry, they had nearly as much attention as the other champions. It was almost common knowledge at Hogwarts that they were Harry's best friends. And obviously, with Harry not being spotted since Halloween, it was clear that they were some of the only people that knew of the fourth champion's whereabouts, so they were constantly stopped by others asking questions about Harry
Whereas the Gryffindors were enthusiastic and impressed by Harry's unexpected entry, the other houses—as well as for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons—did not share the same sentiment. The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, were rather impertinent. Considering a Slytherin was chosen as Hogwarts champion over their favored Cedric Diggory, they were already in a distasteful mood. But the fact that another student was chosen from Hogwarts and it still wasn't a Hufflepuff? It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt some animosity regarding the whole situation.
If the Gryffindors and Slytherins were hostile before Harry became champion, the present made the past seem like the houses were maybe even friends. The worst of the Slytherins torment was during their second year. Prior to the Quidditch World Cup, Hermione hadn't been called that hateful word since her second year. During third year, most Slytherins minded their own business—as if the house was undergoing an intense shift in direction. Last year's progress seemed to disappear as soon as Harry was chosen.
Unpredictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with not his familiar sneer firmly in place, but an amused smirk on his face. Scarily similar to the look Warrington and their other friends were sporting.
"Ah, look, it's the champion," he said to his court the moment he got within earshot of the Gryffindors. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now because I doubt he's going to be around much longer. Half the Triwizard champions have died, how long do you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Five minutes into the first task's my bet."
"I think it'll be ten minutes, Draco," said Warrington.
"Another bet, then? It hasn't even been 48 hours since you lost the last one," Zabini added.
"You're right Blaise, do you even have money to wager, Ophelia?" Malfoy asked with a smug look.
"Haha, I've probably swindled at least 1000 Galleons from you in the past ten years," Warrington patted him on the chest, "I think I'm good on money."
Hermione could've sworn Warrington winked at Malfoy at the end, and Malfoy's cheeks slightly reddened. Or was it just the sun? The surprised reactions of the other Slytherins told her that she was right.
Hermione glanced over at Harry, she knew that he's had somewhat of a crush on the girl since she helped them with their Heir of Slytherin investigation. He was intently watching the pair of Slytherins as if his life depended on it.
If there was one person that could embody the ideals of a teenage witch, Hermione would think that it was Ophelia Warrington. She not only looked the part, but she also exuded an air of energy that was so powerful, you could feel the magic buzzing when you're near her sometimes. She might not have been perfect in every single class, but that hardly mattered when her captivating personality made up for it. Although she was a Slytherin—and thereby associated with problematic people—she wasn't disliked at all. Yet she didn't stop her friends from bullying until intervention was absolutely necessary in order to prevent a physical fight from actually occurring. Funnily enough, her contradictory attitude only made her more alluring.
Hermione glanced back and forth between the Slytherins and Harry. Realizing Harry was watching them, Malfoy leaned down to Warrington and whispered in her ear, his eyes still on Harry. Warrington pulled away and looked up at him. The Gryffindors were too far away to hear their conversation now since they were speaking in hushed tones.
With an agitated look, Warrington extended a hand and he took it. Warrington pulled him in once again by their clasped hands, reaching up to tell him something only he could hear, the tips of Malfoy's ears quickly turned red. He smirked down at her and raised a brow. "Okay."
Similar to how she patted his chest, Warrington gently patted his cheek with a saccharine smile. "Good. We'll see who's smiling at the end, Malfoy."
Then, to everyone's surprise, even Malfoy's, Warrington walked away from the Slytherin's and approached her, Harry, and Ron. "Do you mind if I work with you guys today?"
"I—uh, sure," Harry stuttered. While both Harry and Ron started a conversation with her, the Slytherin faction mobbed Malfoy for questions, and the Gryffindors excluding the trio whispered vehemently.
The Slytherin champion's sister, striking a conversation with Gryffindor's champion? It was unheard of.
Throughout the rest of the class, only two people noticed that both Warrington and Malfoy stole forlorn glances at one another when the other wasn't looking. At one point, Hermione locked eyes with Daphne Greengrass, but the latter effortlessly looked away, as if she never saw anything suspicious at all.
A/N: Hello! I'm back with a new chapter :) I was planning to update this on September 1st (for obvious reasons hehe) but I couldn't. Unfortunately, there will still be sporadic updates for a month or so, I'm still getting back into the swing of things at uni. I miss y'all and I hope you're doing well!
11/11/2021 Updates: Changing DADA to Charms for classes that Ophelia is 'better' than Hermione. Adjusting Ophelia's great-great-grandfather's age from over 250 to over 150 for continuity.
Next chapter: Slytherin vs Gryffindor part two and a good ol' Cassius update :)
Contains content from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
Chapter 18: The Weighing of the Wands